


Love Thyself

by doilycoffin



Series: Swesson Love Week 2016 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam Winchester, Dimension Travel, M/M, Samcest, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7572973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doilycoffin/pseuds/doilycoffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam Winchester gets dumped into an alternate reality (again) and comes across another version of himself and Dean, he figures that he might as well make the most of it. </p>
<p>After all, what would Dean say if he found out that Sam passed up a golden opportunity like this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Thyself

**Author's Note:**

> This one doesn't correspond with an actual prompt, but I just couldn't resist writing some Samcest for Swesson Love Week. I'm only human.

Sam truly wished that he could say that getting sent back in time or into an alternate reality via spell or angel dickery didn’t happen often enough for the whole thing to have lost its luster but, well, at this point it was just another facet of the Winchester lifestyle. Hell, he and Dean wound up in the 1800s just the week before so they could track down the source of a 130 year long curse and fuck in a horse-drawn buggy. Well, okay, the sex part had technically been incidental and not connected to the case, but Dean cajoled him into it by claiming that time travel made him extra horny. Sam’s rebuttal to this was that _everything_ made him extra horny, but he let Dean fuck him anyway.

 

He was just generous like that.

 

Today, however, courtesy of Rowena, Sam had been the sole victim of this particular spell and he was stuck waiting for Dean and Castiel to figure out a way to bring him back. The spell had deposited him into a hotel room that was moderately nice in comparison to the crap holes that he and Dean generally frequented, but he still had no idea where (or when) the hell he was. In any case, the sound of the previously running shower being shut off in the bathroom told him that he should probably get out of the room and continue his investigation elsewhere lest he be mistaken for an intruder.

 

He was almost to the room’s exit when his swift escape was foiled as the bathroom door swung open and the familiar figure of his brother appeared amongst the billowing steam to catch his gaze and give him a look of alarm. Sam spotted a smattering of fresh hickies on his neck and deduced that his face was flushed from more than just a hot shower; the only question was whether Sam had interrupted a tryst between his brother and some random one night stand or another version of himself. Sam was personally rooting for himself, but he also wasn’t sure if he and Dean were even together whenever or wherever he was now.

 

“What the fuck?,” Dean squawked in confusion before squinting at him and cocking his head. “ _Sam?!_ ”

 

“Stop yelling at me,” an irritated and familiar voice commanded from the bathroom. “I’m right here.”

 

Well, that solved that mystery.

 

“I’m not yelling at you! I’m yelling at...well, actually I think I _am_ yelling at you, but it isn’t the you that _you_ are.”

 

“What the hell are you even talking about?,” the other Sam asked, sounding perplexed and somewhat concerned now. “Did you hit your head while we were in the shower or some--”

 

The rest of whatever he was going to say trailed off as he joined Dean in the bathroom’s entryway and gaped at Sam. Sam took the opportunity to study them while they were in a state of  stunned bewilderment and noted that the other Sam seemed at least a few years younger than him. This would have led him to declare time travel as being the culprit for his predicament if not for the fact that he didn’t remember ever staying in a hotel this nice with Dean, so he went ahead and quietly chalked another tally in the alternate reality column and found that there was something weirdly comforting in the fact that he and Dean were still screwing around with each other across dimensions. It was almost like something out of one of those sappy, romantic movies that Dean claimed to watch only for the partial nudity but secretly got teary eyed over when he thought Sam wasn’t around...if those sappy, romantic movies ever featured incestuous relationships between brothers at least, which he assumed they probably didn’t.

 

Close enough though. Kind of.

 

“Uh, hey,” he finally greeted, waving awkwardly at them. “Don’t mind me. I’m just here because of a spell, and I’ll probably be out of your hair when Dean --my Dean-- figures out a way to reverse it.”

 

The other Sam blinked at him. “A spell....?”

 

Sam frowned. “Shit, do you guys not have supernatural, uh, _stuff_ here?”

 

“We do,” Dean answered, still looking dazed, “but all we’ve really done is get rid of a few ghosts. We’ve never met our time traveling selves before. That’s just crazy. This is fucking crazy!”

 

“Alternate reality self,” Sam corrected, automatically.

 

“That’s even more crazy!”

 

“Look,” Sam said placatingly, “it’s honestly not as weird as it sounds. Well, no, I guess it _is_ as weird as it sounds, but I’ve done this kind of thing often enough that I’ve just kind of learned to roll with it.”

 

As he spoke, Sam finally moved away from his spot by the room’s front door, plopped down on the large, king sized bed, and figured that he might as well make himself comfortable. A glance at the bedside table showed that two driver’s licenses had been tossed carelessly onto it and the names “Sam Wesson” and “Dean Smith” stared back at Sam. He was about to snort at the dumb aliases when a surge of recognition went through him as he recalled that Smith and Wesson were the identities that Zachariah gave him and Dean in the false reality that he concocted.

 

Or maybe it wasn’t so fake after all and he just based the entire thing on another reality that was already set in motion. Weirder things had happened. Technically.

 

“So...now what?,” the other Sam, who Sam mentally dubbed “Wesson,” asked. “What exactly is the protocol here for dealing with interdimensional...whatever the hell this is?”

 

Sam shrugged. “There’s not technically a rule book; we can probably deal with it however we want. I can think of a couple of things we can occupy our time with though...” and he paused to briefly ponder the possible ramifications of what he was about to suggest. On the one hand, he and his brother had a bit of an unspoken but exclusive arrangement between them. On the other hand, fucking himself was more like a really elaborate form of masturbation, so that was probably fine....and he would also still technically be having sex with his brother. A different version of him, sure, but it was still basically Dean.

 

Plus, knowing Dean, he would probably be more upset if Sam _didn’t_ have a threesome with himself. The only thing he’d really be pissed about was that he wasn’t able to participate in it.

 

Moral dilemma solved.

 

Sam roamed his eyes over the still wet, towel clad bodies of Wesson and Dean suggestively. “We could have a bit of fun with each other,” he offered coyly, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation about what kind of “fun” he was referring to.

 

“I’m in,” Wesson said immediately, loosening the towel tied around his waist. Dean arched an eyebrow and turned to stare at him.

 

“Wow, you had that answer loaded up pretty quickly.”

 

“Hey, this could be our only chance to do something like this. Besides, look at me,” he defended, gesturing to Sam. “I’m fucking hot. There’s no way that I’m not gonna tap that.”

 

“It’s true,” Sam spoke as he began unbuttoning his shirt, “who knows if you’ll ever get another opportunity like this. Might as well make the most of it.”

 

“This is still fucking crazy. I just want that on the record,” Dean grumbled as he dropped his towel anyway. “So, how are we gonna do this?” 

 

Sam hummed in contemplation for a few seconds. “Well, I’ve always wanted to suck my own dick, and I guess this is as good an opportunity as any. At least now, flexibility won’t be an issue. How about I do that while you fuck me?”

 

“I’m fully on board with this plan,” Wesson agreed as he palmed his dick. “How about you, Dean?”

 

Dean was already fumbling through a duffle bag on the floor in a desperate search for lube, all traces of prior hesitation apparently forgotten.

 

“Yeah, that’s definitely something I can get behind,” he declared. “In more ways than one.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes and noticed that Wesson mirrored his action. It was good to know that he was also stuck with a Dean who made bad puns.

 

After peeling off the last of his clothing, Sam got on his hands and knees on the bed and beckoned Wesson over to him. Once he got him right where he wanted him, Sam stroked his cock for a few seconds and admired the weight of it in his hands, the feeling both familiar and unfamiliar at once. Without wasting any more time, Sam took it into his mouth and immediately groaned around the thickness of it, marveling at the fact that he was essentially tasting himself. Wesson’s eyes fluttered as he let out an identical noise and fisted his hand in Sam’s hair, guiding his head back and forth on his cock as he gently began thrusting forward.

 

Dean let out a strangled noise as he observed the scene and poured the lube onto his palm before positioning himself behind Sam to begin preparing him. Sam moaned once Dean’s thick, talented fingers began stretching him open and driving him crazy with desire; it seemed apparent that, regardless of which reality he was from, Dean always knew just the right way to make Sam fall to pieces before even getting his dick inside of him. By the time he finally, finally began fucking him, Sam was practically panting around Wesson’s cock and felt like an utter, whimpering mess of want and need.

 

“Oh, fuck, _yes_ ,” he choked as Dean bottomed out, his mouth too full for his words to sound remotely coherent.

 

“Christ,” Dean murmured to Wesson, “look at the way he’s practically begging for my dick. I guess you two really _are_ the same person, eh, Sam?”

 

Wesson didn’t dignify that with a response and instead leaned forward slightly to shut Dean up with a kiss and Sam instinctively knew that the image of them making out above him as they both fucked him was something that he would be revisiting in his imagination many times in the future.

 

Sam lost himself in a haze of pleasure as Dean continued to thrust inside of him and allowed the movement to rock him forward onto Wesson’s cock and push it deeper into his throat. Wesson’s cock was so deep in his throat that he was nearly gagging on it, but he made no attempt to pull off it and relished the way it made his eyes water and saliva drip down his chin. Wesson seemed to like it as well, and Sam could see the lust in his eyes even as he gently swiped his thumb over Sam’s cheek to catch a stray tear.

 

“You’re doing so good,” he praised as Sam’s head continued to bob up and down on his dick. “You’re fucking amazing.”

 

His words, in combination with the constant pressure against his prostate, caused Sam to shudder as his release overtook him. As he fucked Sam through his orgasm, Dean’s pace began to falter as Sam clenched around him and he came inside of him, hot and wet. He stilled for a few seconds to catch his breath before sliding out of Sam and collapsing on the bed.

 

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “That was incredible.”

 

Sam knew that Wesson was close as well. When he looked up, he could see that Wesson’s eyes were half-closed and his mouth slightly parted; Sam knew what his face looked like when he was close to orgasm because Dean had a fetish for filming them in bed, but there was something a million times better about seeing that look on his own face when he was up close and personal with it.

 

But he wasn’t ready for Wesson to be done yet. Without warning, he slid his mouth off of his dick with an obscene popping sound and wiped his chin.

 

Wessons eyes flew open in surprise. “Why...?”

 

“I want you inside of me,” Sam replied, his voice raw.

 

Rather than argue, Wesson scrambled to get behind Sam and pushed inside of him in one, long thrust and moaned.

 

“How are you still this tight?,” he pondered aloud as he began to set a brutal pace. Each thrust caused a little bit more of Dean’s come to leak outside of him, and despite Wesson’s words, Sam felt sloppy and loose in the best way possible. While Dean’s movements had been firm and deep, there had still been something slightly restrained about them whether because that’s how he naturally was in bed or because he simply hadn’t been sure how to deal with this new, unfamiliar Sam. Wesson seemed to know what Sam could handle because they were one in the same and Sam relished the way that his rough grip carved bruises on his hips.

 

Sam’s arms had already been shaky and unsteady after his orgasm and they finally gave out as Wesson pounded into him, leaving him with his face buried in the quilt of the bed while his ass was still in the air for the taking as he begged and whined senselessly. He turned his face to the side to see that Dean was stretched out on the bed, watching them with a rapt, glazed expression as he began to gently thread his fingers through Sam’s sweaty hair soothingly.

 

Sam was half hard again already, and Wesson began to lightly stroke him as he bounced off of his dick.

 

“Are you gonna come again, Sam?,” he asked breathlessly. “Are you gonna be a good boy and come for me? Come for _yourself_? _”_

 

_“_ I want to. Fuck, I want to,” Sam nearly sobbed. “I don’t think I can.”

 

Wesson rubbed his hand down Sam’s back in a calming motion. “You can do it, Sam,” he crooned gently. “You _will_ do it.”

 

And he did. The force of his second orgasm left him exhausted and boneless, and he barely even reacted when Wesson thrust deep inside of him one more time and flooded his insides with come. When Wesson gently extracted himself from Sam and flopped next to Dean on the bed, Dean untangled his hand from Sam’s hair and helped lay him down on the bed, propping his head up on one of the pillows between them.

 

The three men lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Sam gathered his wits and shakily began putting his clothes back on. He had been in their dimension for a while and figured that Dean had probably nearly found a solution at this point and wasn’t especially interested in getting yanked back to his reality while fully nude. Plus, there was no way that he was going to let his favorite plaid shirt get stuck in another dimension.

 

“So...” Dean started, slightly awkwardly, “you do this kind of thing often?”

 

Sam grinned. “Nope. This was a first for all of us. It was pretty fun though.”

 

“No kidding,” Wesson said. “That was wild. Think you’re gonna stick around long enough to do it again?”

 

As if in response, Sam began to feel a tugging, tingly sensation in his body and knew that he was probably about to be dragged back to his own dimension.

 

“Sorry guys,” he said ruefully. “But I think Dean found a way to get me home. That brother of mine sure took his sweet time though.”

 

As the image of Wesson and Dean’s surprised faces began to blur, the last thing Sam heard before he was taken away was Dean’s alarmed voice calling, “Wait, did he just say _brother_?!”

 

                                                                                ************************

 

“I can’t believe I wasn’t with you. There was hot Sammy-on-Sammy action going on and I completely missed it!”

 

“I know, Dean,” Sam repeated for the tenth time in a bored voice.

 

“And I can’t believe you didn’t at least film it for me,” he whined.

 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” 

 

Dean sighed and crossed his arms sulkily. “This is the worst day of my life,” he declared.

 

“A couple of weeks ago we went to a diner that ran out of bacon and you said _that_ was the worst day of your life,” Sam pointed out. “I think you’re just an overly dramatic person.”

 

“What kind of diner runs out of bacon? It’s a staple!,” Dean defended. “And that’s not the point!”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Definitely overly dramatic,” he accused again.

 

“Oh, go fuck yourself.”

 

Sam smirked.

 

“Been there, done that.”


End file.
